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Long Week- Secret Santa for Alexys52 (FMA)


kendisima

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Here's my (somewhat overdue) Secret Santa for the lovely Alexys52! In this fic, Ed is still pretty new to being a state alchemist. There really aren't any pairings (I wasn't sure if you shipped anyone) but anything can mean something if you want to squint ;) I hope you like it, because it's the first fanfiction I've ever written. Also, I have to apologize because it's pretty long :/ Happy holidays, hon! Enjoy your present!

Monday

Roy Mustang hated Mondays.

It wasn’t the fact that it was the start of a work week; no, Mustang lived for his work. He loved the smell of fresh ink on paper, the hum of the office as it buzzed with busy work, the heat of the coffee his Lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, brought him. No, there was a different reason Mustang hated Mondays, and that was—

“MUSTANG, WHAT THE HELL?!”

There it was.

“Ah, Fullmetal, there you are,” Mustang said as Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, stormed into his office. “I see that you’ve found your new assignment.”

“Yeah, I found it! What the hell IS this, Mustang?! You’re making me do freaking BUSY WORK!” Edward screamed, waving his assignment paper in the older man’s face. Roy took the paper from Ed’s hands and placed it on the desk.

“It isn’t busy work, Edward. It’s important government—”

Whatever, Mustang! I don’t give a crap what the government needs me to do, I should be out trying to figure out how to get Al’s body back, but instead I’m doing your fu—”

“STOP!” Mustang shouted, standing and cutting Ed off. “Fullmetal. You are—what is it you so endearingly call it?—a dog of the military. That means, that at least for the time being, you do what your superior—that would be me—tells you to do. And I am telling you to go investigate the botched alchemy happening in East City.

There will be no more arguing. Understand?”

Edward’s jaw hung open. “But it’s SNOWING in East City!”

Mustang shrugged. “Wear a jacket,” he said. “Now get out of my office.”

Tuesday

The morning had been a quiet one… that is, until Fullmetal and his brother Alfonse burst into the office, Fullmetal shouting and his brother attempting to calm him down.

“Ed, ssh! I’m sure Colonel Mustang is really busy, and—”

“I don’t give a damn if that bastard is busy, Al! He made us spend all day in the freezing cold just to find out that two teenagers were trying to do alchemy—hhTSSHoo! Dammit!” Edward sniffled before continuing. “Alchemy in the woods. He can deal with us being here now.”

“Bless you, Brother,” Al offered, but the blessing went unheeded. Edward continued to stomp towards the Colonel’s office.

Roy Mustang sighed as the little blonde alchemist burst into the room, obviously fuming.

“Fullmetal,” he said evenly, “I see you’ve finished your assignment.”

“You’re damn right I finished it, Mustang! You know, it isn’t very nice to send us on a trail to nowhere. We should be doing important things; Al is trapped in a suit of armor, for God’s sa—aahh…hhKTTSHHuhh!” Ed cut himself off with a harsh sneeze directed towards the ground.

“You know, Fullmetal, you should really cover your mouth,” Mustang said, smirking. “Catch cold up in the mountains while you were gone?”

“What the hell? No way, Colonel Bastard. I’m just allergic to your bullshit!” Mustang rolled his eyes, but Al looked concerned; quite the feat for someone trapped in an emotionless metal suit.

“Brother, you HAVE been sneezing a lot today… are you sure you’re ok?”

“Al, I’m FINE,” Edward growled, rubbing his nose on his red coat. He turned his gaze back towards Mustang and scowled.

“Well, Fullmetal, whether or not the mission was a success, you still owe me a write up of what happened. By tomorrow,” Colonel Mustang stated, leading the boys towards the door. Ed looked absolutely livid.

“What! But nothing happened!” the young alchemist shouted as he and his brother were pushed into the hallway.

“Then write me a poem, Fullmetal. But there better be something in my hands by tomorrow morning.”

“You bast—!” Ed screamed, but Mustang had already shut the door in his face.

Finally, Mustang thought, sighing, silence.

Wednesday

Roy Mustang looked at the clock—ten a.m. He groaned; Edward Elric would be here any moment, kicking and screaming and cussing him out. He placed his feet on the desk, mentally preparing himself.

However, fifteen minutes later, the office was still quiet. Mustang knitted his eyebrows together; where was that tiny little ball of fire? He stood silently and exited his office. Once outside the small space, Mustang’s jaw dropped.

There was the Fullmetal Alchemist, looking tiny and so damn young, curled up on the couch in the hallway. Mustang noticed that the boy was pale—too pale, really—and that there were blotches of color on both his cheeks and his nose. His breathing was labored and even. The boy was fast asleep.

Fullmetal?” Mustang asked, louder than he meant to. Edward sat up, gasping and sputtering. He looked up at his superior and attempted a scowl.

“The hell, Mustang?” Edward asked, his voice congested and croaking. He settled back into the couch and closed his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”

It was clear that the Fullmetal Alchemist was ill; it would have been to just about anyone. Mustang almost felt badly; the boy was worn down, exhausted, and had no one but a younger brother to care for him. Still… there was work to be done. If he had to be up and working whenever he was ill, then Edward did, too. This was the military, after all.

“Fullmetal, you are aware that you have a report due to me… now,” Mustang said, folding his arms. Edward opened an eye.

“I’m aware that it was a—a… ehGDSHHugh! KRSSHoo! Snnff. A bullshit report,” Ed finished lamely, using his coat as a tissue. Mustang cringed.

“Fullmetal, if you’d please refrain from spreading your germs like that. We don’t need the whole office becoming ill.”

“’M dot ill,” Ed mumbled, congestion sneaking into his voice. He sniffled a bit, attempting to clear it, but it appeared to be in vain. Mustang leaned over Edward and lifted an eyelid.

“Really,” he said, incredulous, “because I’ve never seen you lying on my couch before while well.”

“Leave be alo—huhISHHoo!” Ed finished with a sneeze right in Mustang’s face. The Colonel looked disgusted and shocked.

“Shit,” Ed grumbled, sitting up and coughing harshly into his sleeve. “Sorry, Colonel.”

Mustang scrubbed at his face, attempting not to go off on his ill subordinate. After all, he thought to himself, clenching his teeth, You were the one in his face.

Still, the Colonel couldn’t help but feel angry—as well as germ-coated and infected.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang said evenly, “ill or not, you have a report due to me within the hour. If you’d like the chance to go home and sleep off your… infection, then I suggest that you get it done. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy paperwork the rest of the afternoon.”

Roy walked back to his office and slammed the door, kneading at his temples. These alchemists beneath him would truly be the death of him.

Mustang called for Hawkeye, and the blonde Lieutenant approached him stoically.

“Yes, Colonel?” she asked, standing at attention. Roy folded his hands on his desk.

“Lieutenant,” he said simply, “would you mind checking on Edward in a few minutes. Perhaps you could bring him some tea; he looks as though he could use a cup.”

***

An hour later, Edward placed a sloppily written report on the Flame Alchemist’s desk. Roy looked at it with disdain and Edward gave him a look.

“Don’t expect my best work,” the young blonde grumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve once again. Roy plucked a tissue out of the box on his desk and handed it over to Ed.

“I never expect much from you,” he said, and Edward clenched his fists. “Take it,” Roy insisted, holding the tissue towards Edward. The teenager took it with caution and gently blew his nose. It appeared as though a dizzy spell had overtaken him, because he quickly grabbed hold of the chair opposite Mustang’s desk and closed his eyes. Roy raised an eyebrow.

“You can sit, if you need to, Fullmetal,” the older man stated, motioning towards the chair. “I expect your work done, but I don’t expect an ailing subordinate to stand at attention all day.”

Ed nodded weakly and sat with a thud. Roy raised an eyebrow at the boy, who was currently rubbing his head with gentle fingertips.

“Headache?” the older man asked, and Edward shrugged a bit. “Are you sure you aren’t feverish?” Another shrug. “Would you like me to take you to medical?”

Edward looked up, confused at the gesture. Mustang tried to regain his composure. “I meant that I’ll have someone show you there if you need.”

Edward looked back down and shook his head weakly. Mustang, defeated, finished reading the report—not bad for something Edward had just drummed up.

Although, they all knew that where the boy lacked workmanship and height, he made up for in brains.

“Nicely done, Fullmetal,” Mustang said, filing away the report. “You’re free to go, if you’d like. Do you need an escort back to the—”

HuhTSHHuhh!” Edward interrupted, covering a sneeze with his elbow. He sniffled pathetically and shook his head.

“’M fine,” he managed, getting up quickly; too quickly, apparently.

“Shit,” Ed mumbled, closing his eyes at another bout of dizziness.

“Fullmetal?” Roy asked, but by the time he finished the word, the boy had already sunk to the floor.

“Fuck,” Roy whispered, a rare commodity. “I need some help in here!” he called out the door, scooping Edward up and attempting to wake him. He was hot; much warmer than was normal, and Roy could feel panic rising in his chest. This was his fault, after all. He’d sent an exhausted boy to do a job in the snow, and he’d caught cold. Instead of allowing him to go home and rest, Mustang had made him push through. Damn it all, he was just trying to get Edward to have some respect, not to overwork him to the point of passing out.

Five minutes and three alchemists later, Edward came to, causing Roy’s heart rate to slow back to normal speed. “Thank God,” he whispered, helping Ed to the chair.

“Wha’ happened?” Ed asked, coughing. Roy sighed.

“You passed out,” he explained. Ed rubbed his head a bit.

“Guess that explains the headache,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. Roy swallowed—was he really about to do this?

“Fullmetal,” he said evenly, “you are ill.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s pretty obvious,” Ed managed, coughing hard again. Roy took another breath.

“You have no one to care for you,” he continued. Ed raised an eyebrow.

“I can take care of myself,” he grumbled, stifling a volley of sneezes into the crook of his elbow. Mustang finally gave in.

“Fullmetal, I’m taking you home with me. You are of no use here this ill, and I feel… responsible. So I will be caring for you until you are well.” There was no question;

Roy Mustang did not leave room for apprehension. Edward’s eyes bulged.

“No,” he said, hoarse and begging. “Oh, hell no. I’ll take care of myself, Colonel, I’m perfectly capable—”

“No arguing,” Mustang said, standing and grabbing Edward by the elbow. “It’s time to go.”

Thursday

Mustang awoke with a start.

It was dark in his guest room. He shook his head to clear it—what was he doing in here? Mustang looked to his left and saw a little blonde head poking out of the covers.

Oh. Edward Elric; he’d agreed to take care of him.

The antics of the previous day flooded back to him; dragging the boy back to his home, attempting to make him take medicine and rest, the coughing that made Mustang’s own chest hurt, and, of course, the fever.

It had started low-grade, but by the time dinner rolled around, Edward was lethargic and glassy-eyed.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang had said, stern. “Are you paying attention?”

“Hrmm?” Ed asked, blinking up at Mustang. The Colonel sighed and placed a cool hand on Edward’s burning forehead.

“Edward, you’re burning up,” Mustang mumbled, dropping the boy’s military name. Ed shrugged and rubbed at an aching eye. Mustang moved to the kitchen and pulled a thermometer out of a drawer. He wiped it on his coat and walked back towards the smaller, swaying alchemist.

“Open up,” Mustang commanded. Edward, surprisingly, complied without complaint. The raven-haired man waited what seemed to be a lifetime before pulling the little mercury stick from his subordinate’s mouth.

“103,” Mustang stated. “Alright. Time for bed.”

Bedtime proved to be more difficult than Mustang originally thought. Edward didn’t want to stand long enough to be showered, and he refused to take off any layers for fear of getting cold. Eventually, Mustang gave up and allowed Edward to resign himself to heatstroke.

“Alright,” Mustang had said, standing at the doorway of his guest room. “I’ll go call Hawkeye to watch over Al for the night. Do you need anything?”

“Um,” Edward mumbled, so small and flushed in Mustang’s large guest bed. “I, um, don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.” His voice was ruined from coughing and a sore throat and Mustang felt badly to even listen to him.

“Would you like me to… sit with you?” Mustang asked, blunt. Edward swallowed.

“Hell no,” he managed. Mustang shrugged and began to leave. “But, um,” Edward continued and Roy turned back around. “Maybe you could stay. Just for a minute.”

That was how Mustang had ended up stiff and uncomfortable, lying atop the covers in his guest room with a flushed blonde beside him. Edward blinked awake.

“Good morning,” Mustang said, cracking his neck. “How are you feeling?”

Edward swallowed carefully and cleared his throat. “Kinda better,” he admitted.

Mustang nodded and stood carefully. “Well, I’ll let you be then—”

“Mustang,” Ed blurted, sitting up a little bit. “Um. Thank you.”

Mustang, thrown off guard. “You’re welcome, Edward,” the older man said, and he closed the door behind him.

Monday

Edward Elric loved Mondays.

It certainly wasn’t the work he loved; the boy hated paperwork almost as much as he hated the fact that his brother lived in a metal suit. Nor was it the fact that he’d have a chance to look for the philosopher’s stone, though that was certainly a plus. No, the reason Ed loved Mondays was that he got to thoroughly annoy his superior; and Colonel Mustang would answer his office door any second now.

Ed felt a little bit weird about the fact that Mustang had taken care of him last week; granted, he’d been so feverish that he couldn’t help but let himself be taken care of, but still. It was difficult to admit defeat like that.

So, his plan was simple: he’d annoy the shit out of Mustang until they were back on the same page: Mustang was the Annoying Bastard Colonel, and Ed was the Inferior Little Twit. That’s the way it should be.

“Mustang, answer the goddamn door, if I have to work so do you—!” Ed called just as Mustang pulled the door open.

“Oh, shit,” Ed murmured.

The Colonel looked like absolute shit; fever-bright eyes, red nose, a tissue balled into his hand. “Fullbetal,” he managed, before coughing into an elbow.

“Uh… shit, Mustang…” Ed said, stepping back and preparing to be screamed at; but it appeared as though the Colonel didn’t have the energy.

“Thadk you for the idfectiod, Fullb— hrGTSHerr! ITSHHuuhh!” Mustang cut himself off with two harsh sneezes into his elbow. He attempted to blow his nose, but just ended up making his own eyes water.

“Colonel, shit, I’m sorry…” Edward mumbled. Mustang shook his head a bit.

“Dno deed to explaid,” Mustang said, congested. “Because you have a missiod thirty biles dnorth; add a report od what you fide due toborrow.”

The scratchy words came from a place of pure anger, and Ed merely nodded. “Um, ok, Mustang,” he muttered. “Uhh… feel better?”

“Go, NOW Edward,” Mustang attempted to yell. Ed nodded and the door slammed in his face.

Damn. It was going to be another long week.

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Awww! I am grinning ear to ear right now!! This is so cute!!!! I love it love it love it. You really capture Ed's character very well. Thank you Thank you Thank you for the awesome gift!!!

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This was such a sweet fiction and FUNNY too! I have to admit I laughed a bit too loudly at times. Ed and Mustang are so great together you captured them perfectly!

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Alexys52-- Yay, I'm glad you like it! You're very welcome!

snuffles-- Haha thank you :D they're both so ridiculous, it was fun to write!

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Poor Roy!! I love this though!! And then Edward would feel guilty the whole mission, work hard to finish and back to ease his conscience XD

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FMA~! GWAAAH! I love the characterization and the pacing of this story with the days of the week~

And shared contagion is a bonus! <3 AWESOME JOB~

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You guys are the greatest :D

Akahana-- haha, my thoughts exactly. That's Ed, always on the move

DeathNoteOwner-- thank you! :)

Artygirl22-- thanks so much! I was worried I wouldn't get them right, haha

Melody-- thank you! I love writing, so I love when people love mine

fang815-- this is a oneshot, but I think I'll write more FMA fanfiction soon :D

BlackScatter-- you're so sweet! I liked the days of the week thing, it kept me on track, haha. (And I love contagion, too ;))

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